Nani’s Bhagavad Geeta - Self Doubts

It was a cool winter afternoon, on the highest branch of the Tamarind tree on the outskirts of the village, Bala and Chintu sat overlooking the vast dry land that stretched before them, as far as their eyes could see. The arid and cracked land reminded them of Nani’s wrinkles. Three years of the lack of rain in the area had affected all of them including the water reservoirs.

"Do you think they will dig another well?” a worried Bala wondered aloud. “I think so,” Chintu replied. “But, who has the money to dig the well?” Bala looked inquiringly at Chintu, who shrugged his shoulders. “Moru Mama and father said that their lockers are empty. As empty as the clouds- Appa said that day to Vijay kaka.” Chintu explained the state to Bala. “They doubt there’s any water underground,” he added.

“Chintu, do you know that if we participate in the district-level drawing competition and win, we would be given a chance to tell our village story to get aid from the eminent personalities attending the district fair?” Bala suddenly remembered the pamphlet he had read in the barber's shop this morning.

Chintu and Bala knew that the elders had already sought the government’s and bank’s help to aid in building wells in the village. But, the government was not yet ready to invest and was providing them with temporary solutions - the water tankers. They saw one more such tanker leave the village boundaries a few hours back. 

“Moru, these tankers are of no use. They fill the wells once every two weeks and then we have to wait for their next trip. This will not work if we are facing one more year of drought.” Bala heard his father speak to Moru mama in the village panchayat meeting. “Agree. But they aren't paying for the well either” a disheartened Moru mama sighed. “The only option remaining is to build our own wells with private aid.”

“Nana, if we dig a well at the site that the engineer mentioned, will we find water?” Chintu asked his father once at the dinner table. Nana nodded, “It looks like the water table under the Umber tree is sufficient enough to dig a well.”

“Chintu, do you miss being in the well, swimming, playing in the water?“ Adjusting his painful back on the branch, Bala was transported to the easy, happy, wet days when he along with his friends spent endless afternoons in the village diving into the water like mad buffoons fed on opium. He looked at Chintu searching for the same longing and desire.

“You remember Bala, how once we pushed Pushpa into the well without the floats?” “Yes, I remember how she struggled and almost drowned. Ha ha ha” Bala joined Chintu in memories. “Anil kaka ran after us with a big stick to beat us after pulling her out.” “Yes. But, you know, I still think Pushpa was enacting drowning, just so that we would get the beating.” Bala poured the secret from that day’s events. “Yes, I also think so. That wicked Pushpa, she always finds ways to get us thrashed,” said Chintu, spitting tamarind seeds after chewing them for a long time. The sun had crossed from east to west, while the two friends sat on the tree, still thinking of a plan to crack the water issue.

“Why don't we appear in the drawing competition and drive our message through our drawing? Bala stuck to his thoughts, convincing Chintu about the plan.

“Bala, you donkey. Can you draw?” Chintu mocked.

“I can draw decently. Amma says so,” he replied.

“Amma says so.” Chintu teased

“You cannot draw Bala”, he poked at a dejected Bala with his stretched legs. “Yes, true. One idea. Shall we ask Nani about this?” Chintu’s face lit up at this thought. Without a second thought, he and Chintu climbed the tree down and sprinted towards the village.

“Nani, Nani” they shouted at her door.

An old lady wearing an old brown saree looked at the two boys sweating at her door. “You two monkeys. What do you want?”

“Nani, Chintu thinks that we cannot draw.” Bala couldn't contain his excitement of complaining about Chintu to Nani. “Chintu teased me,” he complained, further exposing Chintu’s teasing a few minutes ago.

“No Nani look. I didn't mean to hurt Bala. But, he wants to participate in the district-level drawing competition when this dumbo cannot even draw a grass blade.” Chintu countered. 

“I cannot make sense of anything. Bala your complaining tone and Chintu your explanation are all googly for me. Would you two monkeys calm down and explain what you are trying to tell me?” The old lady quizzed.

“Okay, Nani, I will explain.” Chintu stepped forward.

“Nani, you know there has been a drought in our area for the last three years and there is no concrete government plan to fix the issue?”

“Yes, I know. How is it connected to your drawing competition?” still puzzled she asked.

“That’s what I am telling you. Listen. Nana, Morru Mama, and other elders want to dig a well near the Umber tree?”

“Right” she confirmed her knowledge and knew that the elders were indeed planning something about the water issue.

“And they don't have enough funds to do so?” Chintu’s excitement levels jumped as he saw the knowing look on Nani’s face. 

“Correct!” 

“So, I and Bala want to participate in the drawing competition.” 

“Chintu, I will trash you both with a broom. How are the well, the fund, and a drawing competition related?” she asked angrily.

“Oh, Nani! We will draw our well and our village state in the competition, where the rich people will pity our drawing and we will get a chance to ask for the funds. Simple.” Chintu finished the entire sentence in one breath.

“Ahh!” nodded Nani. “Now, I get it. Nice thought my boys.” she patted Bala who was standing nearest.

“But Nani.” Bala frowned.

“Now, what?” Nani asked, looking at Bala’s sorrowful face.

“Nani, Chintu says that I can't draw.” looking down and digging his heels into the mud, Bala whined.

“Oh, I see. And what do you think about your drawing?” she tried to look into his eyes. Lifting his face, Bala responded with a spark in his eyes, “Nani, I know my intentions are right and if I try to draw from my heart, I can draw a well, the village dog, the village women near a dried well and also I can draw Pushpa sitting with her swimming floats on her back beside the empty well. I can draw all that Nani.”

“Then Bala, if you have a clear picture in your mind about the drawing what’s stopping you? Chintu?” 

“Yes, Nani. Chintu criticized me about my capability,” he grumbled.

“And what will happen if Chintu praises you? Is your intention based on Chintu’s approval of your work or is it based on a large greatness of thoughts that you have for the well-being of the community?” she asked.

“Bala, we have heard too much of “You can’t do it.” “You can never accomplish that” and “You are not suitable for it” since our childhood from our parents, siblings, teachers, friends, etc. We believe it, and we act accordingly throughout our lives.” Nani took a deep breath and paused, allowing Bala to assess his thoughts. 

After giving him enough time to process her words, Nani continued; “ The first step towards manifestation is to set a clear intention of your desire without any doubt. Most manifestations fail due to conflict in the intention and the self-doubt of receiving it. We are conditioned to see or rather dig into imaginary setbacks and convince ourselves of the failure even before it happens in reality. Don’t you think so?” she asked. 

“Break that cycle and set confident unrestricted, uninhibited, doubtless intentions. Killing self-doubt begins with shattering the years of self-destructive conditioning that we develop since childhood.”

“Say to yourself, “I will do whatever I can to help my community and bring peace to my mind”. Will you do it?” she probed, invoking the flame of self-belief within him.

Her soul-penetrating words shook Bala to the core bringing him back to his fair senses. “Yes, Nani. Chintu’s approvals are minuscule in front of the larger cause in my mind. His criticism or praise doesn't matter now. I will participate in the district-level competition and will draw well.” Bala asserted, his heart full of hope and light.

Smiling at the two innocent, yet sensitive boys, she said, “Go, my boys. Participate in the competition and highlight our plight to the rest of the world. I am sure with your pure hearts you would bring happiness and prosperity back to the village.”

Nani offered them sweets and lollipops from the bag tucked in her saree and sent them off to their respective homes. It was way past the sunset as she looked at the distant running figures of two young boys, dissolving their self-doubts, flying in the air of hope, aspiring to save the village in their small capacity with nothing but a pure heart and right intentions. From her experience, she could tell the power of self-belief and the mountains it can move or the wells it can dig.